A Nasty Common Name
by littlewhitecat
Summary: Harry Potter, Harry J. Potter, Harry James Potter…such a nasty common name Aunt Petunia had always said. Turns out she was at least partially right…


_Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling, the wonderful lady who has inspired so many people to try their hand at writing too._

 _Betaed by Jacobus Minoris who has read and re-read my writing, pointed out my grammatical mistakes and asked interesting questions, as well as putting up with long winded rants about plot-ideas._

Author's note

This isn't the story I promised you, that is currently a work in progress). This is something else, something I've had knocking around half-finished for a while, a wild little idea that insisted on being written but won't go any further than this.

In other news I have acquired a new netbook with a teeny tiny keyboard. It's an absolute joy to type on.

A Nasty Common Name

 _Harry Potter, Harry J. Potter, Harry James Potter…such a nasty common name Aunt Petunia had always said. Turns out she was at least partially right…_

.oOo.

The platform outside was a riot of noise and activity as students said goodbye to their families and shouted greetings to friends they hadn't seen all summer. Piles of trunks littered the platform stuffed with school equipment and personal belongings and familiars in travel cages hissed and growled their objections to being so confined as wizards and witches strutted around in their best approximation of muggle attire.

Harry watched from his carriage compartment his stomach churning with nerves. Would he fit in here? Had he finally found a place where he belonged? Would he have to develop a taste for orange and brown paisley plus-fours? He winced as that particular wizard strode past again looking like Aunt Petunia's old dining room carpet. He wasn't going to get his hopes up about the Wizarding World, (did that with school, not doing that again), though the family of red-heads who'd helped him onto platform 9 ¾ had seemed nice enough.

A whistle blew sharp and bright and the cheerful chaos of the platform turned into a mad scramble as students piled onto the train. This was it, no turning back now. Harry huddled down in his seat by the window as the platform slowly began to slowly glide by, the train gradually picking up speed as it pulled out of the station and into the city.

The train was soon clattering along passing through London into more suburban areas and then into open countryside, fields and hedges rolling away into the distance when the embankments allowed. Occasional houses peeked out among the trees and hedgerows, and even more rarely they would speed through a town, back gardens and level crossings and little industrial estates passing by in a blur.

Every so often someone would peer into his compartment, soon moving on at seeing the obvious first year hunched up by the window, so when someone actually came in Harry looked round in surprise. Standing in the doorway was a stocky boy with sandy hair and dusky freckled skin, his clothing decidedly non-magical, his very new and shiny trunk sitting beside him.

"Er…is it okay if I join you?" the boy gave him a nervous smile, "I've been struggling to find a compartment. Everywhere seems full…" he trailed off.

Harry smiled as he clambered up from his seat. "Course…erm, want a hand with your trunk?"

The boy gave a relieved smile. Together they wrestled the heavy piece of luggage up into the overhead rack, flopping onto the seats in relief when they were done.

"Wow, this is exciting isn't it?" the other boy gushed.

"I suppose," Harry said, nervous butterflies clawing at his stomach. On the other hand, nine guaranteed Dudley free months... "Yeah, it is," he grinned.

The other boy smiled in relief, and it was like a flood gate opened, and a torrent of words poured out as he described how very surprised he'd been at receiving his letter but then when he'd thought about it there had been that occasion when the family dog Luca (Harry wasn't sure, it got a little lost in the torrent of words, it could have been the other boy's little sister) had got his/her paws on his favourite football and completely destroyed it, but the next moment it had been whole again…

"I turned my teacher's hair blue once," Harry offered.

"Cool," the other boy said with a grin, not really pausing his monologue…a teacher had turned up with the letter, a Professor McGonagall, very stiff, very proper. She'd looked a little cross-eyed at his name. He had no idea why, it was such a common name after all, and then they'd gone to Diagon Alley and his little sister had had a melt-down when Mum wouldn't let her have a dragon toy that actually moved and even blew smoke rings, and then someone had asked his name…

"Who knew Harry Potter was such a special name," the boy finished.

Harry stared at the other Harry Potter wide-eyed.

"This other Harry Potter is meant to have killed a really scary wizard and everything," Other-Harry continued. "The shop lady in the uniform place got really funny with me, seemed to thing I was lying to get attention or something." He shrugged beginning to look miserable.

"I'm Harry Potter too," Harry said wanting to make this other Harry feel better.

"Seriously? Cool!" Other-Harry perked up, "maybe we can be Harry Potter together. Friends?" he held out a hand.

"Deal," Harry grinned giving it a firm shake.

"Wonder what houses we'll get sorted into," Other-Harry said.

Harry shrugged, "all I know is what Hagrid told me. He took me round Diagon Alley, he works at Hogwarts," Harry explained at Other-Harry's questioning look.

"Professor McGonagall told me a little about each one," Other-Harry offered "Hufflepuff is about friendship and hard work, Gryffindor is about bravery, Ravenclaw prizes intelligence and knowledge, and Slytherin is for the ambitious."

That made a lot more sense; Harry thought about it a moment. Hagrid had been all "Slytherins are evil" and "Gryffindors are the best"

"They all have a point don't they," Other-Harry looked thoughtful, "though I'm not sure I'd do very well in Ravenclaw. I don't think I'm swotty enough."

Harry nodded, "I don't think I fit in any of them at all really," he looked out of the window miserably.

"I bet you do," Other-Harry said, "pointless worrying about it though...we'll find out though when we get there and we get sorted…"

The door to the compartment slid open and both boys tuned round to find a grumpy looking girl standing there. She seemed close to tears. "Can I join you," she snapped, "only nobody else will let me in their compartment."

The two boys looked at one another unsure, but the girl decided for them, shuffling in her trunk thumping along the floor behind her, managing to slam the door so hard its glass panes rattled.

Harry stared at her as discretely as he could as she slumped down on the seat near him, dark curls hiding her face.

"Erm…we could help you lift your trunk up onto the rack," he offered ignoring Other-Harry's horrified expression. "I'm Harry by the way…Harry Potter."

The girl looked at him eyes wide, "really? My name's Harry Potter too, though I'm Harri, with an i."

"Really?" Harry squeaked, "my aunt was right. It really _is_ a common name."

"Not in the Wizarding World it's not," Hari growled, "I got thrown out of my last compartment by some really nasty older girls who called me a liar, and laughed at me."

"Yeah," Other-Harry nodded sympathetically, "they got funny with me when I went shopping for my school things."

"I think," Harry said quietly, "I think I might be the Harry that they're…the Wizards and Witches and that, are all crazy about. See…my parents were murdered by Voldermort when I was a baby, and somehow he disappeared because of it. I don't know how…maybe my Mum did something…and anyway, I got sent to live with my Aunt and Uncle. They're about as un-magical as you can get, positively allergic to it, so I only found out I was really a wizard about a month ago. And when I went to Diagon Alley, they found out…I got swarmed. It was pretty scary…" he looked up warily at the other two.

But Hari and Other-Harry didn't seem the least bit angry or annoyed, more understanding, sympathetic even. He wasn't used to this.

"We need to stick together," Other-Harry said, his expression daring anyone to argue, "obviously being Harry Potter in the Wizarding World is going to be tough. If we stick together we can look out for one another."

"Like the three musketeers," Hari agreed.

Harry wasn't entirely clear on that point, but the rest, "yeah," he agreed, "if we stick together we can help each other, be…friends and that," he suggested.

"Exactly," Hari bounced on the seat obviously beginning to feel more herself.

oOo

There was no way he was staying with the Twins, not when their mate Lee was playing around with his bloody pet tarantula like that. Ron shuddered to himself certain that long hairy legs and beady eyes were going to haunt his dreams for the next few weeks.

But now he had a problem, no where to sit for the long journey all the way up to Hogsmede, and all the compartments seemed to be full, older students in little groups of friends busily catching up with one another or desperately trying to finish off summer homework, their compartments strewn with pieces of parchment and books as they feverishly worked, Ravenclaws, books already out testing one another, discussing what they might get to learn in the coming year. Oh yes, and one compartment he very hastily backed away from, with some bloke, his girlfriend perched on his lap, as they snogged passionately completely oblivious to everything else.

Er yes, he flushed red, definitely not going in that one.

Further along he came to a compartment where three probably first years sat laughing and chatting away. He blinked; one of them was that little runty boy Mum had helped through the barrier. Hadn't the Twins said he was Harry Potter? He'd have loved to have found out...except it looked liked he'd already made friends and...he shifted awkwardly.

Did he dare go in...get stared at...the embarrassment...urgg, who'd want to be friends with him, he sighed heavily, shoulders slumping as he shuffled away sadly.

Yeah...best to keep looking.

oOo

"Trade you a chocolate frog for one of your cheese and pickle sandwiches," Harry said.

"Deal," Hari said eagerly snatching up her prize, passing him her packed lunch, "have as many as you want, have the lot. I'd much rather have the chocolate."

"You can't just eat chocolate," Harry looked at her in concern. Dudley had tried it once and the results had not been pretty.

"Sound like my mum," Hari complained around a mouthful of chocolate, a frog leg sticking out of the corner of her mouth.

"Hey," Other-Harry said holding up a brightly coloured packet, "these say any flavour...Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans. Shall we?"

"Er...no thanks," Hari grimaced, "I tried some when I visited Diagon Alley. One of them tasted like rusty nails, and grass, and boiled eggs." She shuddered in remembered horror.

Shrugging Other-Harry offered them to Harry who gingerly took a small handful. Cautiously he tried one. "I don't know...brussel sprout?"

"Ewww, see what I mean?" Hari scrunched her face up in disgust.

"Ahhh...chillies!" Other-Harry croaked reaching for his bottle of pop quickly slugging down half. "They aren't messing around are they when they say every flavour." He gave the deceptively innocent packet a glare.

"Obviously mud-bloods," a sneering voice came from the doorway. Turning the Harrys found a small and very blonde boy standing there a look of supreme disgust on his pale pointy face. On either side of him stood the most gorilla like boys Harry had every seen. Dudley would have fit right in.

"I'm sure none of you have even heard of Harry Potter," the blonde boy sneered, "being _muggle-born._ "

The Harrys looked at one another. "But that's my name," Other-Harry exclaimed.

"Mine too," Harri agreed, "I'm Harri, with an I."

"I'm Harry Potter too," Harry agreed.

"See, we're all Harry Potter here," Other-Harry grinned broadly at the pale boy whose face was becoming increasingly red.

"It's a very common name," Harry agreed.

"Normal even," Harri added.

The blonde boy gave them one last sneer. "Think you're so clever," he muttered, "stinking mud-bloods." He stormed past his pet gorillas who trailed after him bewildered.

"Bloody hell," Other-Harry exclaimed, "all this fuss over a name." Unthinking he popped another every-flavour bean into his mouth. "Eughh..." he lunged for the carriage window doing his best to push the top section open so he could spit the horrifying sweet out.

"Gross," he shuddered as he finished the rest of his pop, "why do people even buy them?"

"Won't you get in trouble for that?"

They turned to find a girl standing in the doorway to the compartment her nose wrinkled in disgust, her brown hair bushy and untamed, her school robes already on over her normal clothes. Behind her a nervous boy with a round face peaked over her shoulder.

"It looked very unhygienic," the girl continued, "and not very nice."

Other-Harry growled in annoyance, but this didn't seem to put her off.

"I'm Hermione Granger by the way," she gave them a toothy smile, "I'm so looking forward to Hogwarts, I didn't realise I was magical until my letter arrived but it explained ever such a lot. Which House do you think you'll be sorted into? I rally hope I get into Gryffindor, it's supposed to be the best. I've even tried some of the spells in the books and they all worked for me..."

"Err..." Harry stared at her.

"Anyway, Neville's looking for his toad," Hermione gestured to the shy boy standing behind her, "have you seen one?"

Harri shook her head. "No. No toads here," Harry said, pushing his glasses up his nose.

"Aren't you Harry Potter?" Hermione suddenly asked.

Harry groaned, this was going to get very annoying very quickly.

"Yep," Harri smirked, "that's my name."

The other two sniggered.

Hermione was not impressed. "Hmph. Anyway, you should get your robes on soon. It won't be long until we arrive."

Turning on her heel, she stalked away, Neville trotting after her.

"Hope we're not in the same House as her," Harri growled, "so annoying."

Harry couldn't help but agree.

OOo

This was not how he'd imagined his start at Hogwarts, it really wasn't, Ron desperately tried to keep his footing as the new first years slipped and slid along a narrow path to who knew where following the giant Hagrid mum and dad had told him about.

He'd managed to find a compartment and ended up having a great time making friends with another boy called Seamus. They'd discussed Quidditch and wizarding chess, their families and all sorts of things, and it had been great despite the best efforts of that pompous twit Ernie Pentwistle or something. There been another boy sat in the corner by the doors but other than ask them to keep the noise down a bit he'd spent the entire journey with his nose in a book. Definitely a Ravenclaw.

And now here they were scrambling down a dangerously slippery path in the dark to who knew where... "oh, the lake," Ron gasped as they came round the final turn.

As still as glass under the moonlight, it stretched dark and forbidding into the distance where it met the shadowy blur of the forest that marched up the sides of the distant rocky peaks that encircled the lake.

"So...do we walk round the lake to the school?" Seamus asked beside him.

"Er.." Ron honestly didn't know.

"No more tha' four to a boat," the booming voice of Hagrid rang out somewhere near the front of the crowd of first years.

"Boats?" Ron looked at the lake dubiously.

"Boats!" Seamus said as he excitedly scrambled into one. "Come on! Before we get split up."

Most of the other seemed to have had the same idea as they all scrambled for the small boats. With a sigh of relief Ron plonked himself down next to Seamus just as two identical girls with ridiculously long plaits scrambled on. And then they were off, the boats gliding silently away from the shore and out into the lake, which unnerved him a little, but it was all right he thought as he looked up at the stars twinkle above and the pale glimmering trail of the milky-way stretching its way across the sky.

"Hey," Seamus elbowed him in the side, "what's up with them lot?" He nodded towards the boat in front.

Ron blinked; it was those rowdy kids from that compartment. One of them was probably Harry Potter, if the Twins could actually be believed.

" _...only Harry Potters in this boat..._ " carried across the water followed by peals of laughter and ridiculous arm waving.

"Mental, absolutely mental," Ron muttered.

"Any luck," Seamus said, "we won't be in their house."

At that point they round a small rocky promontory and got their first view of Hogwarts itself, shimmering across the water, its windows ablaze with light, like some fairy-tale convection floating above the lake. All thoughts of weirdos in boats were soon forgotten.

oOo

"Wow," Harri quietly exclaimed.

Looking up, Harry couldn't help but agree with her. The ceiling of the Great Hall was incredible, a sea of twinkling starlight that even the floating candles couldn't dim. It was easily the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen, not that he had much experience with such things, the Durselys generally viewing anything even slightly cultural with a great deal of suspicion. Museum trips were out, even for Dudley.

But now, now they weren't here to ruin stuff and be generally miserable and dismissive about anything he might like. Yep, he was going to enjoy the ceiling as much as he could. Other-Harry's elbow dug into his side and he tore his attention away from the wonders of the ceiling just in time to hear the end of the Sorting-Hat's song.

"When I call your name," the severe looking lady who'd introduced herself as Professor McGonagal gave them all a hard look, "you will come up to the stool and try the Hat on. When the Hat announces your new House you will go to your assigned table."

So they just had to try it on, Harry smiled in relief, that wasn't going to be too bad.

"Abbott, Hannah..."

A blonde girl rushed up to the stool and plonked herself down, the Professor dropping the Hat on her head. A moment later and it shouted "Hufflepuff!" to the Hall, Hannah jumping up with a happy smile as she handed the Hat back, running over the very yellow table to much applause.

"Bones, Susan,"

Another Hufflepuff, Harry watched as she scurried over to join Hannah who seemed absolutely delighted her friend was in the same House. Friends, Harry thought; he so hoped he was in the same House as his friends. He had a feeling Hogwarts would be rather unsafe without them, for them and him. Already they had had to fend off multiple interested parties who either wanted to gawk at his scar or wanted to tell the other two that they had no right to their names.

"Boot, Terry."

"RAVENCLAW!" the Hat bellowed seconds later.

"Brockelhurst, Mandy," another Ravenclaw.

"Brown, Lavender."

"GRYFFINDOR!" The table to the left erupted as Lavender trotted over apparently delighted at her reception. "Wow, they're rowdy," Other-Harry muttered, "bet they have midnight feasts and stuff."

"Bulstrode, Millicent," became the first Slytherin. Harry couldn't help but note just how unfortunately lumpish the girl was.

"What if I don't get picked," Harry muttered as he watched Finch-Fletchly, Justin get sorted into Hufflepuff.

"Course you'll get sorted," Harri said quietly. "If you don't fit in Slytherin, Ravenclaw or Gryffindor, I'm pretty certain the Hat just automatically puts you in Hufflepuff. It was in its song, while you were staring at the ceiling."

"It's worth staring at," Harry muttered back as Finnigan, Seamus was sorted into Gryffindor eventually, the Hat seeming a little undecided.

"Granger, Hermione."

The annoying girl from the train rushed up to the stool eagerly cramming the Hat on her head.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"Really?" Other-Harry muttered. "The way she was going on on the train, I swore she was going to be Ravenclaw." He shrugged. "Just shows you can't tell."

Longbottom, Neville shuffled up to the stool looking even more nervous than he had on the train, his face practically green as he sat down on the stool. The Hat seemed to take an age to decide as well, Neville's hands clutching at the edge of the stool, his knuckles practically white.

Finally, "GRYFFINDOR!"

Neville ran off still wearing the Hat and had to trot back to give it to the next person, his round face as red as a beetroot.

The pointy pale boy from the train was next, the Hat barely touching his head before it bellowed "SLYTHERIN!" to the Hall.

Harry's nerves really began to get the better of him as the Sorting began to work towards the "P's". If it weren't for the other Harrys, he was pretty certain he would have made a run for it.

"Moon"...

"Nott"...

"Parkinson"...

"Patil"...

"Patil"...

"Perks, Sally-Anne"...

Then, "Potter, Harri Penelope." Professor McGonagall looked at them, her lips twitching into an almost smile.

The noise in the Hall fell until you could hear a pin drop as Harri shuffled towards the stool ignoring Other-Harry's hissed "Good luck."

Harry's heart seemed to have decided to swoop down through his stomach as Harri perched on the stool the Hat dropping over her eyes. A moment later it bellowed "HUFFLEPUFF!"

Harri seemed to almost faint with relief, passing the Hat back to the Professor as she scurried over to the Huffelpuff table as quickly as she could. The whispering around the Hall slowly increased as people debated about who she was and was she related to _the_ Harry Potter.

"Potter, Harry Charles." Professor McGonagall seemed to be enjoying herself now, a tiny smirk on her face.

Other-Harry shuffled over to the stool obviously trying to look more confident than he felt. Harry watched nervously as the Hat fell over his eyes but only moments later it shouted "HUFFLEPUFF!" and Other-Harry leapt up to join Harri at the table.

Professor McGonagall turned to him with a smile. "Potter, Harry James," she announced, sending the whispers in the Hall into a flurry. Feeling as if he were under an invisible spot-light, Harry sidled forward, not at all comfortable with being the centre of such attention.

The stool was small and rickety and the Hat when the Professor placed it on his head was far too large, flopping down and completely blocking his view of all the staring whispering faces. It was something of a relief, to be honest.

"W _hat do we have here?"_ a little voice whispered by his ear nearly causing him to leap off the stool, " _interesting, interesting, but are you sure?"_

Sure of what? Harry thought.

" _It's all here in your head you know,"_ the little voice continued, " _so much talent and a thirst to prove yourself..."_

I want to be with my friends, Harry thought as hard as he could.

" _Are you sure?"_ the little voice asked, " _it's all here you know. Slytherin would help you on your way to achieve your goals, as would Gryffindor..."_

No, Harry practically roared in the confines of his head, I want to be with my friends.

" _Well if you're sure...better be_ HUFFLEPUFF!"

Delighted, Harry yanked the Hat off only realising as the other two pulled him between them just how quiet the hall had become...and then it was as if a bomb had gone off, the other Hufflepuffs leaping up cheering and screaming and dancing around. From the safety of his seat Harry couldn't decide whether he was flattered at the reception or utterly terrified.

A couple of sudden bangs broke through the deafening racket and the other Hufflepuffs finally began to quieten down only to find the Headmaster standing smiling down at them.

"Yes, yes, congratulations, Hufflepuff. If we could continue with the Sorting," he gestured to Professor McGonagall.

Very sheepishly the Hufflepuffs settled down as the Sorting continued. Harry had a nasty suspicion that the first opportunity they got they'd start right back up again. "Weren't some of the others saying that Hufflepuff was the quiet house," he asked.

"Obviously wrong," Harri muttered next to him.

"So which one of you is the real Harry Potter?" one of the girls opposite asked her smile open and friendly.

"We're all Harry Potter," Other-Harry scowled at her.

"Er...okay," the girl's smile drooped slightly but she seemed determined to talk, "I'm Araminta Pendle, third year...I'm sorry about all the fuss,it's just so..so shocking and incredible, but shocking. Everyone will calm down in a week or so. So, what classes are you looking forward to most?"

Maybe this wouldn't be so bad, Harry thought as the conversation washed over him.

oOo

He always enjoyed the very first feast of the year, Dumbledore thought as he looked out over the sea of students, most returned for a new year, some new to the school, all tucking into their food. It was a time of potential, optimism and hope for what was to come.

And of course this year was extra special. He looked towards the Hufflepuff table where, quite unexpectedly, Harry Potter was sitting with Harry Potter and...Harri Potter. Minerva had found the whole thing hysterical when she'd pointed it out to him on the Roll of Registry, so hilarious in fact she had begged him to keep it quiet. He'd been delighted to comply.

He glanced down the table at the stunned faces of his staff; definitely worth it.

Interesting that they appeared to have forged a friendship; he smiled as he watched the young trio, one of whom seemed to have decided that all he needed was mint humbugs for dinner. Harry and...Harri were helpfully supplying him with broccoli and carrots.

A Potter in Hufflepuff. What a notion. It hadn't happened in living memory, why you'd have to go back to the 17th century and William John Potter who went on to help found what later became the Auror division and...well...a Potter in Hufflepuff.

He, like everyone else, given the gossip that swirled around him at the Head Table, had rather assumed the young man would end up in Gryffindor, just like his parents who had both embodied the Gryffindor ideal in their own ways. Except that he'd been raised by his aunt...

He gently dabbed his moustached with a napkin as the main course disappeared, rapidly replaced by desert. The house-elves had out-done themselves; he hummed in delight as he took in the array of puddings.

Ah yes, Sussex Pond Pudding, just the ticket.

And some lovely custard.

Yes, Hufflepuff, the House of the hard-working. People tended to dismiss them as "left-overs" and their tendency to be quiet around those they didn't know didn't help. But if you looked at the history of Hufflepuffs you found a history of hard-working, driven people who went on to do great things, quietly in the background of course, people who helped Wizarding Britain and the Ministry run smoothly. People who tended to have large networks of friends, who stuck together through thick and thin...maybe he should stop worrying about the lad.

No matter what the future would bring he was sure young Harry would be up to the challenge, would be able to face it head on.

Fancy, a Potter in Hufflepuff.


End file.
